


Mr. Right Under Her Nose

by Dreamin



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-09
Updated: 2018-11-09
Packaged: 2019-08-20 21:58:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16563881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dreamin/pseuds/Dreamin
Summary: Mycroft is in love with his best friend, Sally. How does he convince her to see him as more than a friend?





	Mr. Right Under Her Nose

**Author's Note:**

  * For [afteriwake](https://archiveofourown.org/users/afteriwake/gifts).



> Inspired by a prompt from afteriwake.

Mycroft set the pint of Chocolate Therapy and a spoon in front of the woman sitting at his breakfast table then he sat down across from her with his pint of Urban Bourbon and a spoon. It was the same ritual they went through at the end of each of Sally’s failed relationships – ice cream, her picking apart the relationship while he listened sympathetically, and Adele coming from the speakers attached to the iPod.

He didn’t know exactly when he and Sally Donovan became best friends. Unsurprisingly, they met at a crime scene. Mycroft had only been there to keep an eye on his brother. Sally had impressed him by going head to head with Sherlock and actually holding her own. He started talking to her after Sherlock walked away.

Somehow, Sally had gotten past his walls and made herself comfortable in his life. She was at his mansion at least twice a week and they talked on the phone almost every day. She often said that his voice relaxed her at night, so she liked to call him just before bed.

Her abysmal love life was a frequent topic of conversation. Thankfully, Anderson was the nadir, but her taste since then had only improved slightly.

She tore off the lid of the ice cream carton as if it were her ex-boyfriend’s head. “Bloody. Fucking. Hell... Why do I keep falling for losers?” Sally dove into her ice cream without mercy.

Mycroft raised an eyebrow as he ate his methodically. “You think you can change them but it never works and you end up frustrated.”

She sighed heavily. “Yeah, well, it’s hard to meet decent guys these days.”

He nodded. “Most of the ‘decent’ men you know are taken.”

Sally smiled a bit. “I’ve still got you, at least. I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

Mycroft smirked. “Buy your own ice cream?”

She let out an unladylike snort. “You like these postmortems.”

“Yes, it’s more evidence that I am superior to every other man in London.”

Sally paused, the spoon halfway to her mouth. “Well, yeah … but I already knew that.” Before Mycroft could respond to that remarkable statement, she glanced at the clock on the wall. “Shit, is that the time? Molly and Mary are taking me out tonight – Girls’ Night Out, all that.”

“Must you leave?” he asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “You were just starting to relax.”

She blinked in surprise then gave him a small smile. “Yeah, but I promised I’d go out. I’ll call you after, okay?”

He nodded. “Alright.”

Sally got up and went to the fridge to put her ice cream away then she headed for the foyer and Mycroft followed her.

“Take care,” he said.

She grinned at him. “I will, Mike. Don’t worry about me, just worry about any assholes who try to hit on me tonight.” She kissed his cheek. “See you.”

“Until next time.”

As soon as she was gone, Mycroft walked back to the breakfast nook, deliberately not touching his cheek where she kissed him. After finishing his pint, which he knew he’d have to exercise off later, he threw himself into the work he’d brought home with him.

* * *

She called him at two in the morning, knowing full well he’d still be awake.

Mycroft set aside the book he was reading in bed and picked up his mobile. “Was it a successful evening?”

“Depends on how you look at it,” Sally said, a smile in her voice. “Did I meet Mr. Right? No. Did my scowl keep all the assholes away? Yeah. Someday, I’ll find my knight in shining armor.”

 _It’s unfortunate that I’ve already found my princess._ “If you did, we’d miss out on all those future postmortems.”

She laughed softly. “You can’t say that you like hearing me bitch about my shite love life, Mike.”

 _It’s now or never._ “What I like,” he murmured, “is spending time alone with you. If you were successful in finding ‘Mr. Right,’ we wouldn’t have that time together.” There was dead silence on the other end, long enough that Mycroft checked his phone to make sure they were still connected. “Sally?”

“What if … what if Mr. Right was right under my nose the whole time?” she whispered.

He couldn’t help a small smile. “Then I suggest you tell him.”

“Oh, I think he knows,” she said softly, her confidence returning.

“Then what do you intend to do?”

“I’d go over to his place now but it’s awfully late.” The smile in her voice was contagious.

“I think you’ll find it’s never too late for him.”

She paused for a moment. “Then I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

“He’ll be waiting.”

“I’m counting on that, Mike.”

When he opened his front door a little while later, he found her standing there, grinning.

“Mr. Right, I presume?”


End file.
